"No, and we don't want 'em."

"Why not?"

"They'd stampede the cattle in seven counties. What would a drove of steers or a band of horses do if they saw one of them elephants coming at 'em, so's they couldn't tell which end was the tail? Or one of them long-necked giraffes? Why, those giraffes would starve out our way. There's no trees tall enough for 'em to eat their breakfast from."

They went into the reptile house, and the snakes fascinated Roy. He paused before a glass box of rattlers.

"There's something we've got out West," he said, "and we'd give a good deal not to have 'em. We lose lots of cattle from snake-bites—those ugly rattlers! I don't like to look at 'em! I nearly stepped on one once, and he stuck his fangs in my boot."

"What did you do?"

"Stepped on it and killed it. Come on; let's look at something more pleasant."

They spent the rest of the day in the Park, and returned to the hotel that evening.

For about a week nothing occurred. Mortimer De Royster took Roy for occasional pleasure trips, including one jaunt to Coney Island, where the boy from the ranch had his first glimpse of the ocean. The big waves, and the immense expanse of water, astonished him more than anything he had seen in New York.

"I never knew there was so much water in the world," he said. "This would be fine out our way in time of drouth, when all the pastures dry up."

"I'm afraid it would be worse than none at all," said Mr. De Royster. "It's salt, and it would kill the grass."

"That's so. I didn't think about that."

They went in bathing, and took in many amusements at the pleasure resort. It was quite late when they got back to the hotel, and De Royster did not go all the way with Roy, turning off to go to his own boarding house, which was about a mile from where Roy was stopping.

"I'll see you to-morrow," called the jewelry salesman, as the two parted. "I guess the lawyer will have some word for us then."

"There's a note for you," said the hotel clerk to Roy as the boy entered, and he handed over a sealed envelope. In the upper left hand corner was the printed name and address of the lawyer to whom De Royster had taken him.

"Mr. Felix Ketchum must have some news for me," thought Roy, as he opened the note. It was a written request for him to call at a certain address that night, where he would receive some information that would be of service to him, and the communication was signed with Mr. Ketchum's name. A postscript stated that the lawyer would be there.

"That's queer," thought the boy. "I wonder why he didn't have me call at his office? But perhaps he has to work secretly against Annister. I guess that's it."

"When did this note come?" he asked the clerk.

"Right after dinner."

"Dinner?"

"I mean the evening dinner—I suppose you call it supper out West," and the clerk smiled.

"That's what we do. Who brought this?"

"A boy. He said there was no answer. Hope it isn't bad news."

"No; only a business matter. Can you tell me where the Bowery is?"

"The Bowery. You're not going there; are you?"

"Yes, I have an appointment to meet a man there," and Roy mentioned the number.

"You want to be careful," cautioned the clerk. "It's not the best place in the world after dark. Don't take much money with you, for you might be robbed."

"Aren't there policemen there?"

"Yes, but they can't be all over. That address is not far from the Chinese district, and it's a hanging-out place for thieves and criminals."

"Funny that Mr. Ketchum should want me to go there," thought Roy, "but perhaps he has to get evidence against Mr. Annister from a man who doesn't care to be seen during the day. I guess I'll chance it. There can't be much danger in the midst of a big city, with policemen around. Besides I'll be on my guard. I wish I could tell Mr. De Royster. But, no, I'll not bother him. He'll think I'm a regular baby, not able to take care of myself."

This thought decided Roy to go alone. He suspected nothing, but, had he known more about New York, he would have considered twice before venturing into one of the worst parts of that great city.

The clerk once more cautioned the boy, gave him directions how to get to the address on the Bowery, and in due time Roy arrived there. Part of the street was brilliantly lighted, but the building where he was directed to call, was in a dark location, and did not look very inviting.

"I wonder if this is it?" thought Roy. "Guess I'll ask."

He saw a door opening into a dim hallway. A man was standing there.

"Is Mr. Ketchum in this building?" asked Roy, for the note had instructed him to ask for the lawyer.

"Yes, come on in," said the man gruffly.

Roy advanced. The door shut after him with a click, and he was left in almost total darkness. At the same time he felt some one grab him.

"Have you got him?" cried a voice. "Don't hurt him, but hold him tight."

Roy recognized the voice as that of Caleb Annister!

As he felt arms closing around him he kicked out vigorously. There was a howl of pain, but Roy was not released. He knew that once more he was in the hands of Annister's accomplices.



CHAPTER XXV

THE ROUND-UP—CONCLUSION

Across Roy's mind it flashed in an instant that he had been deceived by the note—it was a forgery. He had been tricked into coming to the Bowery. He dwelt but momentarily on this, however, for he needed to devote all his attention to escaping from the grip of the man who held him.

Fortunately Roy was of exceptional strength for so young a lad. His training on the ranch, roping steers, training wild horses, and his life in the open, made him more than a match for the average man.

He kicked out vigorously, right and left, and squirmed like an eel. He felt the grip of the man relaxing, and heard him call for aid. Then another came.

But Roy was fighting desperately. He made up his mind not only not to let the men take him away again, but to hold them until help came. With this in view he set up a loud shout.

"Police! Police! Police!" he cried, remembering what the hotel clerk had said about the bluecoats being on the Bowery.

"Stop his mouth or we'll all be arrested!" exclaimed some one.

"Yes. Can't you manage him?" asked Annister desperately.

"He's as strong as a horse!" Roy heard one man grunt, and this caused the boy to smile grimly.

The struggle in the dark continued. The boy had a good grip on two men, and was preventing them from dragging him down the dark hallway.

But help was at hand. His cries had been heard in the street, and, a moment later the door leading to the thoroughfare opened, and a little light came in.

At the same time Roy heard the sound of a club striking on the pavement.

"The cops are coming!" cried a voice.

A few seconds later a burly bluecoat entered the door.

"What's going on?" he asked.

"Nothing but a drunken row," quickly replied one of the men who had attacked Roy, at the same time trying to loosen the grip of the lad. "I'm putting the fellow out."

The plotter would have been glad to drop the matter now and escape, but Roy had no intention of letting him go.

"Officer!" exclaimed Roy quickly, "they're trying to get me away! I've got hold of two of 'em. Give us a hand and we'll throw and tie 'em both."

He talked as though he was on the ranch, handling a pair of refractory calves.

Somehow the officer recognized the honesty in Roy's voice. He knew it was not uncommon for thieves and pickpockets to attack persons in dark hallways. He supposed it was one of those cases.

"I'll help you!" he exclaimed, quickly advancing. Some one in the rear of the hall had opened a door, and the place was lighter. The policeman saw two men whom Roy had gripped, holding them by twisting his hands in their coats. The men tried to escape.

"No, you don't!" exclaimed the officer, grabbing one. "I've got you."

At the same time a second policeman appeared, and took charge of the other. The rest of the men escaped.

"Now let's see who we've got," said the first bluecoat, as he led his prisoner to the light in the rear. His brother officer did likewise.

"I don't know either of 'em," announced the first policeman.

"Me either," admitted his colleague. "They must belong to a new pickpocket gang."

But Roy knew them both. One was Caleb Annister, and the other John Wakely, alias Dennison Tupper, though Roy did not learn that until later.

"Do you want to make a charge against these two?" asked the first officer. "A charge of attempted pocket picking?"

"It's worse than that," replied Roy. "They tried to kidnap me."

"Kidnap you? Then you'd better come to the station, and tell the sergeant all about it. I'll ring for the wagon."

In a little while the patrol vehicle dashed up with a clanging of the gong, and, through the great crowd that almost instantly gathered, Roy followed the two officers and their prisoners into the wagon. They were soon at the station house.

"How do I know but what you're all of one gang?" asked the sergeant, when Roy had told his story, while the other two remained obstinately silent.

"If you will telephone for Mr. Ketchum he will identify me."

The name produced an instant effect, for Mr. Ketchum was a lawyer well known in police circles, as he prosecuted many criminals.

The sergeant telephoned, and, in a short time, came the answer from Mr. Ketchum's home that he would come to the station and identify Roy.

He did so, and the sergeant admitted his mistake.

"I'll just lock these two up," he said, indicating Mr. Annister and Wakely.

"You're not going to lock me up, are you?" asked Caleb Annister, who seemed to lose all courage as he saw the way matters were going. "You're not going to prosecute me, are you, Roy Bradner? I'll make restitution! I'll pay it all back!"

"Then you confess you swindled this boy, and his father?" asked Mr. Ketchum quickly.

"I—er—I won't say anything," replied the other sullenly, as he saw the mistake he had made.

"You don't have to. I have evidence enough to convict you without any admissions on your part. I discovered your scheme in time. A few days more and it would have been too late to pay the taxes, and save the property for Mr. Bradner and his son."

"Was he going to take the property?" asked Roy, amazed at the duplicity of the agent his father had trusted.

"He was. That is why he tried to have you put out of the way. He was afraid you would interfere with his plan before the two weeks expired. Fortunately I discovered it in time. To-morrow I will pay the taxes in your father's name, and the building will remain the property of him and yourself."

"What's the charge against these two, then?" asked the sergeant.

"Attempted kidnapping and embezzlement against him," replied Mr. Ketchum, indicating Annister, "and against Wakely, a charge of actual kidnapping. I think we shall be able to arrest the others in the gang, also."

"Hold on!" exclaimed a voice, and Roy turned around to behold Mortimer De Royster. "There's another charge to be made."

"Who against?" asked the sergeant, impressed by the apparently wealthy air of the jewelry salesman.

"Against him," pointing to Wakely.

"What is the charge?"

"Robbery. He and three others stole my gold watch and diamond pin."

Wakely uttered an exclamation.

"I now recognize him as one of the robbers, even though he has shaved his moustache off," went on De Royster, and Roy, now, also knew where it was he had heard Wakely's voice before.

"Lock 'em up!" called the sergeant to the doorman, as he made an entry on the blotter, against the prisoners' names. "You can see the Judge in the morning," he went on. "I suppose you will be here, Mr. Ketchum?"

"Oh, yes. I will prosecute this case to a finish. It was a wicked and bold attempt at swindling."

"Well, you seem to turn up every time I need you," remarked Roy to Mortimer De Royster. "How did you know I was here?"

"I called at your hotel shortly after you left. I had forgotten to tell you, when we parted, that I would call for you early to-morrow morning. The clerk said you had gone to the Bowery, after receiving a note.

"I was suspicious, and I followed. I got there just as the patrol wagon left, and I came on to the station house. Well, I guess you 'rounded them up' as you call it, Roy."

"Yes, they're roped and in the corral now, all right. That is, part of them are."

"The police will get the others. They'll make Annister and Wakely tell who their confederates are."

Mortimer De Royster's surmise proved correct. Later that night Hynard, Baker and Sutton were arrested, just as they were about to leave the city. On Sutton were found pawn tickets representing De Royster's watch and diamond, and he got them back in due time. There were also some envelopes and letter heads secured in some criminal way from Mr. Ketchum's office. On one of them the note to Roy had been written.

After a hearing the swindlers and Annister, the rascally real estate agent, were sent to jail, in default of bail, there to await trial on several charges.

Eventually they were sent to prison for long terms.

"Well, you saved your father's building for him," remarked Mr. Ketchum to Roy, a few days later.

"Do you really think Annister could have gotten it into his possession?"

"He could, under the law. Of course we might have contested it, but it would have been a long and expensive proceeding. He would have had a tax deed to it, and that is considered pretty good. Your father can be proud of you. What are you going to do now?"

"Go back to the ranch, I guess. I've done all dad told me to, except get a good man to look after the property. Perhaps you can suggest some one?"

"I think I can arrange that without difficulty."

"Then I wish you would. I know my father would be glad to have you."

This was done a few days later, and Mr. Bradner was informed, by telegraph, of what had transpired. He could now be sure of getting all the rent money from the Bleeker Building. Little was ever recovered of the money that Mr. Annister had unlawfully retained, for his property was so tied up that the law could not touch it.

"Now, since your business is all attended to, why can't you stay in New York a few weeks longer, and see more of the sights?" proposed Mortimer De Royster to the boy from the ranch.

"I think I will," decided Roy.

"Besides, you have still a visit to make."

"A visit?"

"Exactly. You must call on that lady of the runaway."

"Oh! I reckon she has forgotten me," answered the boy from the ranch.

But he had not been forgotten, as a visit to the lady's home quickly proved. He was royally entertained, and the lady's husband insisted upon presenting him with a ruby scarf pin, doing so in the names of both his wife and his little daughter.

"And now you've got to make me a promise," said Roy to Mortimer De Royster, when the boy from the ranch was ready to go home.

"All right, Roy, anything you say goes."

"You must visit our ranch soon. I'll show you the best time possible."

"I don't know what sort of a figure I'd cut on a ranch," answered the jewelry salesman, with a faint smile. "Don't forget how I got mixed up with those sharpers when I was out in your neighborhood."

"We haven't any sharpers at our ranch. If they came around where we were our cowboys would treat them pretty rough, I can tell you that. I'd like to get you on one of our ponies and ride you across the ranges. You'd find it the best kind of outdoor exercise."

"I believe you there, Roy."

"Then you will come? I want you to meet my father. You'll soon get used to our style of living—just as I got used to city ways." And the boy from the ranch grinned as he thought of the experiences he had undergone.

"I'll come if I possibly can," answered Mortimer De Royster. Let me add here that he did come, during the following July, and he and Roy had many a good time together, hunting, fishing, and rounding-up cattle.

It must be admitted that Roy was anxious to get home, to see his father and tell his parent the details of what had transpired. He found his father much improved, for which he was thankful.

"Roy, you did well—as well as any man could have done," said Mr. Bradner. "I am proud of you." And his beaming face showed he meant what he said.

It was a happy reunion. The cowboys were also glad to have the boy among them again, and that night they held a sort of jollification, lighting a big bonfire and shooting off their firearms as if it was the Fourth of July. And here let us take our leave of The Boy from the Ranch.

THE END